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RED AUTUMN 



ARTHUR CREW INMAN 



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Book ■ ^84-^ 

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CjQEKRIGHX OEPOSm 



RED AUTUMN 



RED AUTUMN 



BY 



ARTHUR CREW INMAN 




NEW YORK 

E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY 

681 FIFTH AVENUE 



Copyright, 1920, 
BY E. P. BUTTON & COMPANY 



All Rights Reserved 

51 






Printed in the United States of America 



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g)CLA60i912 



TO MY FATHER 



CONTENTS 

VASE 

Red Autumn 1 

Who Sleeps Beneath the Sky 3 

Homing 4 

Come with Me 5 

A Picture 7 

The Strayer 8 

Triolet 9 

The Sun Trail 10 

The Dusk of the Forest Fire 11 

From the Cliff 12 

A Glimpse 13 

The Salt Marsh 14 

The Oriole 15 

March 16 

The Railroad Cut 17 

Spring Is Coming 19 

Winged 20 

The Golden Fleet 21 

White Dawn from the Tepee 23 

By the Greening Corn 24 

Symbols 25 

Drowned 26 

Which 27 

Changing Desire 28 

Wind 29 

[vii] 



Contents 



PAGB 



Into the Storm 30 

Fog 31 

In the Mist 32 

Summer Heat 33 

Thunder Storm 34 

Mist of the Night 36 

Still Dawn 37 

Treasure 38 

For Maine and Autumn 39 

Over the Point 40 

On an Autumnal Morning 42 

Vagabond 43 

On a Summer's Day 44 

Canoe and I 45 

From Western Mountain 47 

To A Waterlily 48 

October 49 

Birch Tops 52 

Kingfisher 54 

Song 55 

Communion 56 

As Life Declines 57 

Who Quested Life 58 

By the Seashore 60 

Night of No Moon 61 

Just Before Dawn 62 

A Traveller of Unknown Ways 63 

Black Opal 64 

[viii] 



Contents 



PAGE 



A Poem in Grey 65 

Presage of Storm 66 

Warning of the Fog Bell 67 

Songs to a Speed Boat 

1. Decision 68 

2. To Sea 69 

3. Sea- Waif 70 

4. Riders of the Sea 72 

5. The Cove of Dreams 73 

When the Tide Is Out 74 

An Allegory 75 

The Black Crow 76 

Life, in Death 77 

Wind of Woe 79 

The Digger of Clams 81 

Dead Man's Point 82 

Prayer to a Lonely Land 83 

On the Deserted Slip 84 

The Captive Eagle 85 

The Watcher in the Covert 86 

In the Deep of the Forest 88 

Intervale 89 

Autumnal Reverie 91 

When the Leaves Are Gone 93 

To THE Last Robin 94 

Winter's Blight 95 

Transformation 96 

On Many Sunsets 97 

[ix] 



RED AUTUMN 

^RISE, Dreamer! Feel 
-^-JL The pulse of Autumn heat! 
Awake! The air is wine; 
The world is at your feet. 
Arrayed in magic tints 
And hung with void of blue! 
Arise and seek the hills! 
Red Autumn calls to you! 

Arise, Dreamer! View 
The shimmering, sapphire sea! 
Awake! The golden sun 
Speeds on eternity; 
And life, ah, life is brief, — 
So give to life its due! 
Arise and seek the hills! 
Red Autumn calls to you! 



WHO SLEEPS BENEATH THE SKY 

T^IR-COUCHED, star-tented, I 
■*- Have heard the lullaby 
Of wind-tuned branches; heard 
The chords of nature stirred; 
Have heard the vague unrest 
Of worlds beyond the west; 
Have heard the symphony 
Of cosmic mystery 

Fir-couched, star-tented, I 
Have seen the moon burn high 
Into the purple sky; 
Have seen her radiance dim 
Behind the mystic rim 
Where ghosts of dawn up-swim. 

Fir-couched, star-tented, I 

Have felt the gods draw nigh 

Nor vainly questioned why. 

Lest they, with mockery 

At my temerity, 

Should laugh and haste to flee 

Into futurity. 

[3] 



HOMING 

NORTHWARD the geese, 
And northward I, — 
Far in the dusk 
I hear them cry. 

Homing the geese. 
And homing I, — 
Ah, would to God, 
I, too, might fly! 



14] 



COME WITH ME 

YOU have sought for happiness 
Along the narrow ways; 
You have drunk the cities' draft 
And found it bitter. 

Come with me 

Beyond these trammeled lands 

And seek afar 

The solitude that knows no bounds: 

Yours the forests, virgin deep ; 

Yours the sun, the sky, the wind; 

Yours the river, foamy flecked; 

Yours the moon-enchanted lake, — ^ 

All these are yours, 

If you but come adventuring. 

Somewhere, 

Beyond the mountain peaks that stab the sky 
There lies a land awaiting you. 
And all the heart of nature beats therein. 

[5] 



Come With Me 



Somewhere, 

An eagle balances, sun-high; 

A red buck runs in ecstasy of autumn-tide; 

A rainbow trout leaps swift; 

A crested kingfisher darts in azure arrowed flight. 

Somewhere, 

The wine of youth is in the air; 

The leaves hang russet, brown, and gold; 

And autumn dwells. 

You have searched for happiness 
Along the narrow ways 
And found it not. 

Come, come with me 

Into the sunset's lure. 

Beyond the cities' pale; 

Come and find the solitude of God, 

The peace without compare! 



[6] 



A PICTURE 

GREAT pines, against a cerrous sky; 
A mountain, large with noonday heat; 
Gray granite rocks, needle-carpeted; 
A breath of wind, resinously rich; 
And far below, a curl of smoke 
Drifting lazily up and up, — 
Tell me, what rarest memory 
Does this, my picture, invoke for you? 



C7] 



THE STRAYER 



COOL green, within the forest's shade, 
A sunless pool, — 
The forest's heart is a heart of jade! 



[8] 



TRIOLET 

ACROSS the lake 
I hear a loon. 
The echoes shake 
Across the lake 
And strive to wake 
The slumbering moon. 
Across the lake 
I hear a loon. 



[9] 



THE SUN TRAIL 

A TURN in the trail. 
And lo! 
Magic is wrought. 
Mountains, and forests, and lakes, 
Lead on and on; 
An eagle hovers motionless, 
Sun-pricked against the fleckless blue. 

A turn in the trail, 

And lo! 

Magic is wrought. 



[10] 



THE DUSK OF THE FOREST FIRE 

THE heavy clouds hang motionless. 
The mountains seem to hunch and crowd 
Into the sky. The lake unrolls 
Like sheeted lead. A pressing shroud 
Of stillness draws about the world. 
The pungent, all-pervading scent 
Of burning spruce and balsam fills 
The dusk, — the day is almost spent. 



[11] 



FROM THE CLIFF 

THE marsh winds through the forest like a swath 
Of iridescent silk and coils away 
Beyond the visions furthest ken to where 
The mountains rise like waves of tourmaline. 



[12] 



A GLIMPSE 

A NESTLED summer-house, an azure sky, 
Long grass a-wave, an old stone wall, 
A sweep of sea, one fleeting snow-white sail, 
A purple island, — that was all. 



[13] 



THE SALT MARSH 

MARSH-LAND; lazy sunshine; 
Far-off, horizonward, 
A purple line of hills 
Banked high with fleece-white clouds; 
A coiling streamlet, gold 
And amber, and bubble-flecked; 
A' great blue heron, posed 
Moveless upon the bank; 
A vagrant, perfumed breeze, 
Laden with honey scents; 
Soft hum of insect life; 
The drowsy drone of bees; 
Motley of butterflies 
A-drift like fragile wraiths, — 
And I, outstretched in the grass, 
A-dream upon the peace 
And beauty of it alL 



[14] 



THE ORIOLE 

I RIDE the top of the sycamore 
And sing my song of sheer delight. 
I ride the top of the sycamore, 
I charm the dawn from night's dark door, 
Enchant the winds that gayly soar. 
And rule the summer's magic flight. 
I ride the top of the sycamore 
And sing my song of sheer delight. 



[15] 



MARCH 

CLOUDS and clouds 
Tumbled in woolly heaps 
Against the bluest sky imaginable; 
Atop the hill, a girl, 
Her auburn hair a-toss upon the wind, 
And by her side an eager collie 
With golden coat all ruffled and a-gleam. 

Atop the hill, a girl, — 

And I, poor valley-wanderer, 

Have seen, I swear. 

The very Maid of March herself! 



[16] 



THE RAILROAD CUT 

WITHIN the railroad cut 
The open world recedes 
Leaving to me the peace 
Of moveless quietude. 
The gleaming tracks unwind 
A little while, then curve 
To nought behind the walls 
That seem to guide its way, 
Giving a sense of time 
Set still and space with-held. 
Whither they lead, these lines 
Of steel, I neither ask 
Nor care; I only know 
The vaulted April sky 
Is very blue, the pines 
Are green with springing life, 
And clinging honeysuckle vines 
Along the banks perfume 
The air. It is so hushed 
That I may hear across 
The cut the sunning snakes 
Move lazily, as moves 
A whisper in the grass. 
[17] 



The Railroad Cut 



Sounds a tapping far 
Away, insistent, clear, — ■ 
Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, — 
A man comes into view. 
Unconscious that I watch 
His every move. Tap-tap, — 
Louder and clearer rings 
His stick against the tracks: 
His lips frame rhythmic sounds 
That never come to life. 
Tap -tap, — he passes me 
Intent upon his thoughts. 
Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, — 
He swings around the curve 
And slowly, like an echo, 
The tapping fades and fades 
Until my mind makes sure 
The sounding is no more. 
Then silence comes again: 
I sigh with great content; 
For here in this lone spot 
The open world recedes 
Leaving to me the peace 
Of moveless quietude. 



[18] 



SPRING IS COMING 

SAP is welling, 
Buds are swelling. 
Flicker's drumming, 
Spring is coming. 
Idle hours. 
Golden flowers, 
Tinted dawnings. 
Templed mornings, 
Saffron twilights, 
Purple star-nights,— 
All delight us 
And invite us 
From delaying 
To be playing. 

Sap is welling, 
Buds are swelling, 
Flicker's drumming, 
Spring is coming. 



i:i9] 



WINGED 

OVER the hill-top, 
Over the dale, 
Skyey the summit, 
Grassy the vale; 

Meadow and orchard, 
Forest and stream, 
All pass beneath us 
Blown like a dream. 

Sunset upflaring, 
Road to the night, — 
Ah, we are winged, 
God-like in flight. 

Over the valley. 
Over the crest, — 
Is there an ending 
West of the west? 



[20] 



THE GOLDEN FLEET 

MY ships have gone a-wandering 
Across the many seas, 
Across the seas a-wandering, 
As vagrant as the breeze. 

And some are blown to parts unknown 

And some to far Cathay, 
To far Cathay and parts unknown 

They're wandering away. 

My ships have gone a-wandering 

Across the many seas, 
Across the seas a-wandering. 

As vagrant as the breeze. 

My ships have gone a-wandering 

Into the blue unknown. 
Into the blue a-wanderii g, 

And I have lonely grown. 

The years pass by and I must wait 

For ships that never come, 
And I must wait and pray to fate 

To bring them safely home. 
[21] 



The Golden Fleet 



My ships have gone a-wandering 

Across the many seas, 
Across the seas a-wandering. 

As vagrant as the breeze. 



[22] 



WHITE DAWN FROM THE TEPEE 

THE ember smoke is curling 
Wraith-like in the gloom; 
Above, the stars are swirling, 
Swirling in a loom 
Of winter cold and clearness. 
Far and farther still, 
Then near with startling nearness, 
Sounds the aching thrill 
Of coyote's sky-flung moaning. 
Answers far away 
A lonesome wolf's entoning, — 
Night is turning day! 



[23] 



BY THE GREENING CORN 

I 

IN the lilac morn 
By the greening corn, 
I buried my sleeping one. 

II 

In the deepened blush 

Of the sunset hush, 

I pray to the mystic sun. 



[24] 



SYMBOLS 

I WANDER where, 
Each lonesome eve, 
In white despair 
Pale corpse plants grieve. 

And there, amid the flowers 
That mourn the unknown dead, 
Is dropped, like scarlet heart, 
A crimson arrowhead. 



T25] 



DROWNED 

I HAVE drunk the chalice of the sea, 
The cup of death, — 
I pass beyond eternity. 



[26] 



WHICH? 

1GAZE in the mirror of time 
And see the ages pass; 
I watch the wild geese fly 
As I lie mid the soft green grass; 
And I cannot say of the two 
Which the most wonderful is,— * 
The hurtling flight of the geese, 
Or the hurtling flight of the ages. 



[27] 



CHANGING DESIRE 



Youth 

NEW scenes, new faces, 
The haunting lure 
Of unknown spaces. 

Age 

Old scenes, old faces. 
The homing call 
Of childhood places. 



[28] 



WIND 

THE sky is massed with scudding clouds 
Which stream from the north in writhing shreds. 
And twist, and tear, and twist anew, 
As if to spring from their storm-flung beds. 

The pale-set moon, through the changing rifts, 

Gleams like a ghost its fitful light; 

The wailing whip of the goading wind 

Whines and shrieks through the storm-tossed night. 



[29] 



INTO THE STORM 

SHE leaps! She leaps! A thing alive! 
She runs unleashed, her great white sails 
All windy-hollowed to the storm; 
Her slim masts bent like rapiers 
Of finely tempered steel; her prow 
A seethe of spray; her stern a boil 
Of foam; her racing keel half bare, — ' 
She leaps! She leaps! And mine the hand 
That speeds her on into the storm's 
Great heart! She leaps! She is alive! 



[30] 



FOG 

A DEEPEST fog encircles all 
In dense and death-enshrouding pall, 
Which settles soft, now here, now there, 
Or drifts aside in ragged tear. 

A fog-horn echoes weird around, 
Then piles up wildly, sound on sound. 
Until it seems a myriad moan 
In throbbing, dreary, minor tone. 



[31] 



IN THE MIST 

THE village seems unreal to-day 
All blurred, distorted in the mist,- 

A car whines by in low 
Its mud-guards all a-drip; 
Then silence, save across 
The street a piano drones; 
Dim figures pass, repass. 
And merge into the murk; 
A gutter drips and drips 
And thuds monotony. 

I would the sun, — and yet, and yet, — 
The village is a dream, like this. 



[32] 



SUMMER HEAT 

YESTERDAY the humid heat 
Hung heavy like an opaque drift; 
A shimmering, silver gossamer 
Of dazzling haze but half disclosed 
The fiery, golden blur of sun. 
Yesterday the silence hung, 
Tense-poised, a bubble to be burst; 
The balsam perfume rose to waves 
Of turgid scent, — only a nuthatch 
With dry insistence twanged the spell 
Of elemental mystery. 



[33] 



THUNDER STORM 

ABOVE the heat-tired street 
The darkling elms entwine 
In restless panoply. 
A pregnant silence hangs 
Unbroken, save for now 
And then the distant roll 
Of thunder, oi the cry 
Of robins, storm-oppressed. 

The darkness thickens. One 
Lone figure hurries by, 
His footsteps falling loud 
Upon the hollowness. 
From very far away 
Two children call; a cock 
Crows shrill; a door slams shut; 
Then slowly, one by one, 
The first great drops of rain 
Thump down upon the street. 
Long veins of lightning sear 
The gloom; the magic scent 
Of new-wet earth enfolds 
The thirsty world; the land 
[34] 



Thunder Storm 



Draws cooling breath again; 
The pall of summer heat 
Slips off; — surcease is here! 



[35] 



MIST OF THE NIGHT 



MIST of the night, enshroud me! 
Lull me to rest, — ^so gently! 



[36] 



STILL DAWN 

STILL dawn, 
Touching with roseate gold 
Each weather-gray roof of the sleeping town, 
Each steeple and tower, 
Each gossamer tendril of mist 
Which wraps the earth 
As in a filmy gauze of unreality. 

Still dawn. 

The faint perfume of morning flowers, 

And far, and thin, and clear, 

The whisper of the thrushes madrigaL 



[37] 



TREASURE 

I TELL you: 
He who can catch the faint elusive spell 
That comes with ending night or fading day- 
Is richer far than he who holds the wealth 
Of Midas at his idle soul's command. 



[38] 



FOR MAINE AND AUTUMN 

CEASE your longing, heart of mine, 
Throughout the weary year; 
Longing for breath of spruce and pine 
And all that fall holds dear. 

Cease your longing, heart of mine, 

And live again in dream 
The sky of blue, the air like wine, 

And the sea where white-caps gleam. 

Cease your longing, heart of mine, 

For Maine and autumn-tide. 
Since seasons sway through spruce and pine 

And swift to autumn glide. 



[39] 



OVER THE POINT 

OVER the point the west wind passes 
Bending and swaying the fragrant grasses, 
Leaping lightly the sandy beach, 
Ruffling gayly the shallow reach. 
And dancing, dancing, across the sea 
Wandering swiftly on to me. 

Over the point the west wind blows 
Singing the song my staunch boat knows. 
Humming and thrumming strong and fair, 
Whipping the threads of my errant hair. 
And speeding, speeding across the sea 
On to my white-winged love and me. 

Over the point the west wind sweeps, 
Under my prow the blue bay heaps, 
Far and away the white clouds drift 
Down from the heights where the mountains lift. 
And the silver sails of the fisher fleet 
Seek where the far horizons meet. 
[40] 



Over the Point 



Over the point the west wind passes 
Bending and swaying the fragrant grasses, 
Breathing the breath of a joyous dream. 
Gemming the bay with its flash and gleam, 
And speeding, speeding across the sea 
On to my white-winged love and me. 

Over the point the west wind sings, 

Into my face the salt spray flings, 

And the tiller tugs like a thing of life. 

And the taut sheet hums with a song of strife. 

And the west wind enters my brain like wine,- 

And, oh, but the joy of the day is mine! 



[41] 



ON AN AUTUMNAL MORNING 

STILL morning, — ^far across the sound 
The granite crags of some great cliff 
Up-thrust into a sapphirine sky; 
On every precipice and ledge 
The autumn maples burst to flame 
Cloaking the toneless mountainside 
As in a crimson mantling. 
Deep in the mirrored motionlessness 
Of this still cove, I find again 
In pictured duplicate, the sky, 
The mountainside, the flaming trees, 
And my own inquiring eyes which seek 
So eagerly to miss no whit 
Of autumn's sudden lavishness. 



[42] 



VAGABOND 

FOOT-LOOSE, heart-free. 
The world for me; 
Sunrise the spur. 
Sunset the lure; 

Open to plea 
Of land or sea; 
Comrade of moon, 
Fellow of wind; 

Wanderer am I, 
Restless I ply; 
Homeless, goalless,^ 
Errant with fate. 



[43] 



ON A SUMMER'S DAY 

ONE chooses one's seat by the trail-side, 
Gray moss for a cushion, 
Old log for a back; 
One sits oneself by the trail-side; 
One fills up one's pipe; 
One looks about: 
Before one's feet, the trail, 
Black loam, gray rocks 
And aerolated roots; 
Across the trail, white birches, 
Slim and tall. 

Topping a tangled greening; 
Above the trail, a rift of blue; 
One lights one's pipe, 
Sinks back upon the moss and calls up 

dreams, — 
One is content. 



[44] 



CANOE AND I 

CANOE and I 
Idly lie 
Upon the winding lake. 
Gray heights rise 
To azure skies 
And great white clouds a-shake. 

Softest breeze 

Sweeps the trees 
And tunes the mountain side 
Till whisper drifts 

From lonely clifiFs 
And follows where we glide. 

Now bright fish dash 

In silver flash 
From out the mirror's breast. 
In phantom guise 

An eagle flies 
And merges in the west. 
r45] 



Canoe and I 



Canoe and I 

Watch day die, 
A vision of golden light; 
And then drift home 

Amid lustral gloam 
Which deepens into night. 



[4«] 



FROM WESTERN MOUNTAIN 

A THOUSAND feet above the sea I stood. 
Alone with sky, and sea, and solitude: 
As far as eye could reach the ocean stretched, 
Blue, so blue, and wind and sun caressed. 

A thousand feet above the sea I stood. 
Alone, and free to dream in golden mood; 
And, ah, the dreams that passed in magic flight. 
As, lost in thought, I waited the pensive night. 



[47] 



TO A WATERLILY 

FRAIL flower of gold and white, 
Who sips your chaliced bud 
Must drink the day's delight. 
Frail flower of gold and white, 
Were I but winged, I might 
Essay across the flood, — 
Fra:il flower of gold and white, 
Who sips your chaliced bud? 



[48] 



OCTOBER 

WHEN the day is turning twilight 
And the last lone robin calls, 
I am wont to fall a-dreaming 
Of the quest that me enthralls. 

I am searching all the forest 
When the autumn scatters gold 
For the treasure I have fancied 
That its largesses with-hold. 

She is slender like the birches; 
She is fleet as are the deer; 
In the mazes of the twilight 
'Tis her laughter that I hear. 

She is slender like the birches, 
And her limbs are shod with flight; 
I have glimpsed her hair a-flying 
Like the mystery of night. 

In her eyes that aye elude me 
I have pictured mystic things,— 
Seen a sadness, seen a gladness, 
Seen the touch of nature's wings; 
[49] 



October 



I have seen the joy of springtime; 
Seen the summer's brief content; 
Seen the autumn's fairy beauty; 
Seen the winter, wan and spent* 

She is slender like the birches; 
She is winged with magic flight; 
So I seek her through the woodland 
Twixt the darkness and the night. 

When the shadows sway and flicker 
And the fire is all ablaze, 
I shall find her dancing, dancing, 
Like a dream of golden days. 

She is slender like the birches; 
She is fleet as are the deer; 
In the magic of the twilight 
'Tis her laughter that I hear. 

Though her footsteps aye elude me, 
And her laughter mocks my quest, 
I am searching all the forest 
From the east unto the west. 

I am searching all the forest 
When the autumn scatters gold 
For the treasure I have fancied 
That its largesses with-hold. 
[50] 



October 



If my errant gods take pity 
And my youth will pause unspent, 
I shall find her somewhere, somehow,- 
I shall find and be content. 



[51] 



BIRCH TOPS 

EVER the wind, 
The northwest wind. 
Swinging the high birch tops, — 
Oh, see them friend. 
Adventurous friend. 
Never their swinging stops! 

Tossed to the sky, 

The autumn sky, 

See how they bend and sway, — 

Go to them friend. 

Adventurous friend. 

Join in their riotous play! 

Climb to their tops, 
Their swinging tops. 
Ride in their joyous strife, — - 
Oh, see them friend. 
Adventurous friend. 
Theirs is the full of life! 
[52] 



Birch Tops 



Battle the wind, 
The northwest wind, 
Close to the laughing sky,- 
Go to them friend. 
Adventurous friend, 
Youth is so very nigh! 



[53] 



KINGFISHER 

A STREAK of blue and white 
Along the wooded shore, — • 
A noisy chattering flight, — 
Then all is still once more. 



[54] 



SONG 

HAUNTING melodies 
Swing through swaying trees 
And sigh and sigh to me. 

Lulling melodies 
Float o'er sleeping seas 
And sing and sing to me. 

Magic melodies 

Drift on moonlight breeze 

And call and call to me. 



[55] 



COMMUNION 

OVER the sunken barrier 
Moon and sea convene 
Weaving a gossamer, 
A veil of silver sheen. 

Over the hushed lagoon 
Ever the sleepless sea 
Whispers unto the moon 
Its song of eternity. 



[56] 



AS LIFE DECLINES 

A MOUNTAIN by the sea; 
A bungalow; 
A blue, thrown soft above 
And deep below; 

A single waving palm; 
A breeze that blows 
In idle ecstasy; 
A heart that knows 

The tender peace of years; 
A life well spent, — 
Thus age is held aloof 
By calm content. 



[57] 



WHO QUESTED LIFE 

AWHILE I quested life 
And sought its mystery; 
A while I thought of things 
Beyond infinity: 

And when the quest proved vain, 
The thoughts too great for me 
To use, I knew the ache 
Of incapacity. 

I could not probe the mind 
Of God nor span the space 
That curtains life from death: 
I could not limn His face. 

The years still pass and bring 
Their bourne of joy and pain. 
Their salve of wisdom. Now 
I deem the man insane 
[58] 



Who Quested Life? 



Who seeks behind the veil 
That hides the great unguessed; 
But yet I pity him 
And speed his useless quest. 

• • • • 

The autumn lies all red 
And gold upon the land: 
I treasure it and do 
Not seek to understand. 

I am content to drink 

Each day's outspread delight: 

I am content to live, — 

I would not know the night! 



[59] 



BY THE SEASHORE 



I KNOW the pulse of time,- 
The many waves 
Are as recurrent rime. 



[60] 



NIGHT OF NO MOON 

OVER the sky 
The white-winged northern-lights 
Weave ever a shimmering panoply 
Of argently burning fire. 
Across the stilly sea 
A bat's-wing breeze ' 

Ripples a myriad minute waves 
And speeds my drifting boat 
Upon a way that trails, fan-wise, 
A spreading wake of silver phosphorescency. 



[61] 



JUST BEFORE DAWN 

THE dank and vapid breath 
Of stagnant swamp 
Conies as the scent of death. 

The fireflies romp 
Amid the paler light 
Of phosphor fires. 
The fetid, fevered night 
Slowly expires. 



[62] 



A TRAVELER OF UNKNOWN WAYS 

DAMP twilight dims to dreariness; 
A far loon cries, — 
Here is the soul of loneliness. 



[63] 



BLACK OPAL 

I STOLE its ebony 
From caves of stygian black, 
Its changing crimson red 
From out the sunset's wrack, 
Its azure from summer skies, 
Its blue from turquoise seas. 
I gave it the cold of ice. 
The warmth of tropic leas, — 
A poem in snow and fire. 
I garnered the forest's green, 
The amber of autumn's leaves. 
The purple of noonday's sheen, — 
I gave it these — and more — 
I bade it mix the whole. 
See, there it toils in vain, — 
A beauty without a soul! 



[64] 



G 



A POEM IN GRAY 

'RAY rocks, gray sky, gray sea, 
A single gray-winged gull: 



So infinitely small is Life 
Against the Span of Time, — 
A Shadow that is come and gone, 
Into Eternity. 



[65] 



PRESAGE OF STORM 

ALONG tree-bordered lane; 
A wind; gaunt shaking limbs 
Against a cloud-filled sky; 
The first, few, snowy flakes; 

Warm, beckoning lights that serve 
But to intensify the gray 
And black monotony 
Of rolling countryside. 

An ivy-twisted wall; 
A narrow gate; a light 
Among the trees, — then home. 



[66] 



WARNING OF THE FOG BELL 

LOW through the shrouding pall of fog 
The bell moans dim and drear; 
Mystically full of sorrow and death 
It grips the heart with fear. 

Methodical warning of hidden men, 

It tolls the knell of fate: 
Weird on its wings the warning flies, — 

So turn ere it be too late. 

Spread 'neath the sea by sunken rocks 
Old hulks their tales could tell, 

Full of the wail of pride laid low: 
They heeded not the bell. 

Sailor so bold, let caution rule 

And turn to the open sea: 
Death, like a ghoul, awaits you here, 

So heed the bell and flee. 

Far through the shrouding pall of fog 
The bell moans dim and drear; 

Mystically full of sorrow and death 
It grips the heart with fear. 
[67] 



SONGS TO A SPEED BOAT 



Decision 

WHAT a quandary is mine! 
The mountains call. 
The wide sea calls, 
And time is fleeting. 
See, the rising moon 
Makes pale a million stars, — •■ 
Nay, I will follow the sea. 
In that swift boat of mine. 
Which floats awhile at rest 
Ere it leaps upon its flight, 
I shall pass into the night 
Whirling from wave to wave 
With speed incarnate. 
Nay, I shall seek the sea 
And find at last what lies in mysteried sleep 
Beyond man's utmost seeing. 

Nay, I shall follow the moonpath 
Over the sea, over the sea, — 
Away. 

[68] 



Songs to a Speed Boat 



To Sea 

Calm night and rising moon; 
A motor that throbs like rime; 
Sharp bow to the open sea, 
And stern to the hills of time: 

Ah, see her rise to the waves, 
Upthrust till she severs the moon, 
Then fall to the void between, 
Alone with the ocean's croon! 

Comrade, let us wander on 
Across this magic sea, 
A-tune to cosmic space 
And the moon's wise mystery! 

Let us wander on and on 
Till the land is sunk in dream 
And only the sea's before, 
And only the moon's white gleam! 



[69] 



Songs to a Speed Boat 



3 

Sea-Waif 
Blue is the sea. 



'■i 



Calling to me, — 

Hi! for the urge of it! 

Hi! for the surge of it! 

Windy the sky, 
Vagrant am I, — 

Drunk with the life of it! 
Gay with the strife of it! 

Wide is the sea, 
Singing to me, — 

Hi! for the drift of it! 
Hi! for the lift of it! 

Billows white-maned. 
Troughs golden-seined, — 

Fair is the face of it! 
Luring the space of it! 

Empire of sea 
Waiting for me, — 

[70] 



Songs to a Speed Boat 



Ho! for the way of it! 
Ho! for the sway of it! 

Sea-waif am I 
Until I die, — 

Drunk with the life of it! 
Gay with the strife of it! 



[71] 



Songs to a Speed Boat 



4 

Riders of the Sea 

Wild waves heaving, 
Sea patterns weaving, — 

Far would I journey. 
These would I tourney. 

Swift steed on-flinging, 
Heart of mine bringing, — 

We would assay them. 
Cowards obey them. 

Steed of mine heeding, 
Gayly on-speeding, — 

Faster and faster. 
We would be master. 



[72] 



Songs to a Speed Boat 



The Cove of Dreams 

Across the cove 

The silent sunset flames and glows 

Till all the dreaming dusk 

Becomes suffused with mauve and amethyst. 

A sky-indentured silhouette 

Of roof, and tree, and hill, 

Crowds like a fantasy of black design 

Memoried within some childhood fairy-book. 

But we do not find reflected thus again. 

Deep in the mirrored waters of the cove, 

This picturing: 

For our boat has turned its course about 

And all the sleeping calm 

Volutes in coil on coil of many-rippled flight, 

Into the night. 



[73] 



WHEN THE TIDE IS OUT 

ASLANT the setting sun 
The lonely mud flats stretch 
Like molten-glowing lead 
Poured out from crimson skies. 
Upon the further shore 
Great ram-piked trees stand black 
Like carven ebony. 
Three crows in straggling flight, 
Wing silently homeward. 
There is a tang of salt 
Upon the stilly air. 
Far up into the dusk 
A night-hawk cries to life 
A million winking stars. 



[74] 



AN ALLEGORY 

TWO Horses course the Strand of Time, 
And one is black and one is white, 
And eternally they onward speed, — 
For one is Day, the other Night. 

And oft I yearn to ride the white 
Throughout life's slender, tapering span; 
But ever I see the black approach, 
Till in despair I mount, — I am Man. 



(75] 



THE BLACK CROW 

T TNBLINKING, hard-set eyes,- 
^^ Is he a fool, 
Or is he superwise? 



[76] 



LIFE, IN DEATH 

A GREAT lop-sided moon, 
Dislustered, red, hangs low 
Beyond the rampiked hill 
And casts in silhouette 
The gnarled, distorted forms 
Of age-scarred, lifeless trees 
That thrust their limbs on high 
In terrible appeal. 
The spectral light of it 
Incarnadines the snow 
Until the gaunt wolf pack, 
Bent swift upon its quest 
Of hunger-silent death, 
Seems bathed in misty blood. 

An arctic owl, wraith-like. 
Winnows silently 
From out the trailless aisles 
Of night, and silently 
Is gone again, a swirl 
Across the emptiness. 
The great dislustered moon 
Sinks down behind the hill; 
[77] 



Life J in Death 



Then, very far away 

And sinisterly faint. 

The cold stars sear the shroud 

Of night with argent fire. 

The waiting hush of things 
Unknown, of mystery, 
Of life that kills to live, 
Of death that stalks untired. 
Of cold invisible, 
Is brooding here to-night 
In vague immensity. 



[781 



WIND OF WOE 

IITIND of woe 
^ ^ So madly riding, 
Wind of woe 
Storm-clouds bestriding,- 
Cry to me 
Your dreaded tiding! 

Love of mine 

So far a-faring, 

Love of mine 

Great fancies bearing,—- 

Is he then 

Of truth despairing? 

Wind of woe 
So wildly speeding, 
Wind of woe 
My heart is bleeding, — 
Will you pass 
Me all unheeding? 
[79] 



Wind of Woe 



Love of mine 

So far astraying, 

Love of mine 

With dreams delaying,- 

How fares he? 

Oh, hark my praying! 

Wind of woe 

So madly riding, 

Wind of woe 

Storm-clouds bestriding,- 

Cry to me 

Your dreaded tiding! 



[80] 



THE DIGGER OF CLAMS 

OVER the monotone reach of the mud-flats 
Drives wildly the storm-flung wind. 
Like the rending of fabrics titanic 
Crescendoes the ocean's eternal strife. 

Desolate, — the umber of sodden clay 
Stretched taut where the waves downfall; 
Desolate, — the gray of lowering skies 
Impenetrable, vast, and huge; 
Desolate, — the scene, — ^as an alien dream. 

Far out upon the sea's careening brink 
One solitary figure 
Stoops and rises, stoops and rises, 
Grotesquely, like some eldritch gnome 
A-delve for wealth inscrutable. 

Ah me, how lonely is the world. 
And he who digs the sodden waste, 
Far out, upon the sea's careening brink, 
I wonder if he be lonely, — too? 



rsi] 



DEAD MAN'S POINT 

THE sea rolls leaden gray 
Beneath the shrouding fog; 
The great waves slowly rise 
And crash upon the shore 
In endless myriads 
As though the Gods of Time 
Would crush to naught this rock, 
Sometime, before the end 
Of things has come to pass. 
The salt spray beats my face, 
And as the waves rush back 
Upon themselves, I see 
The slime-green rocks, the brown 
Seaweed, the drifting kelp 
Which sways like loosened hair 
Upon some giant drowned 
Long since, when worlds were young. 
And ever, above the sough 
And surge of mighty seas, 
I hear the gray gulls scream 
Their melancholy cry, — 
Unanswerable sonancy 
Of age-old loneliness. 
[82] 



PRAYER TO A LONELY LAND 

BLEAK moorland, bleaker sea, 
A gray enfolding sky 
That echoes back to me 
The waves' unceasing cry: 

"0 lonely land, that broods 
Beyond the bourne of time 
And pain, make me a pulse 
Within thy wide design! 

"The sorrow of the world 
Enshrouds life's empiry, — » 
lonely, ageless land. 
Make me at one with thee!" 



[83] 



ON THE DESERTED SLIP 



ABOUT the slip the water rings 
In phosphorescent glow: 
Across the bay the moon up-wings. 



[84] 



THE CAPTIVE EAGLE 

^HOSE moveless eyes that gaze 
Inscrutably beyond, 
Do they still find the realms 
That once this lordling conned? 
Do they, in retrospect, 
Still see an eyrie hurled 
Between a vaulted sky 
And an up-cupped, space-poised world? 



[851 



THE WATCHER IN THE COVERT 



I 



WITHIN the covert 
A fear-poised doe stood motionless, 
Irresolute of flight. 



II 



But the man, intent upon his goal, 

Saw naught, — 

Only a greeny covert. 

Base-tangled with juniper, berry, and brake, 

Impenetrable with alder and ash, 

And bowered high with a foam of sky-spaced birch 

A-tremble to each fretful wind. 



Ill 



Passed he then 

So long upon his way 

That the grass unbent where he had trod. 

That the flicker 

[86] 



The Watcher in the Covert 



Restlessly resumed his sharp tattoo, 
And the doe, all curious grown. 
Advanced a pace with cautious step, 
Perchance, to reason on the way of man. 



[87] 



IN THE DEEP OF THE FOREST 

THE sunset smolders, flares, dies, 
Atop the pines. 
Far down the night an owl cries. 



[88] 



INTERVALE 



I 



N 



OW, over the intervale, 
Lingers the twilight's afterglow. 



II 



Palely, into the lilac wash 

That hangs atop the silhouetted pines, 

Ventures the autumn moon. 

And the rutting moose, 

Thigh-deep within the river's cool embrace, 

Lifts high his massive, antlered head 

And sends across the sleeping wilderness 

The plangent yearning of his mighty heart. 

Ill 

Then, like a shadow. 
He is vanished into the forest's heart, — 
And only the spreading ripples 
Imprint awhile 
The memory of his going. 
[89] 



Intervale 



IV 



Deep night, above the intervale; 
And the moon's reflection, wave-distorted, 
At length is as a stilly, silver disk 
Upon a river that is ebony. 



[90] 



AUTUMNAL REVERIE 

LATE autumn, — 
Like fairy gold 
The painted leaves 
That hang so still upon the trees 
Inlay the sky's great bowl 
With wondrous imagery. 

Late autumn, — 

The stubble fields 

Are white with frost; 

The many shocks of corn 

Stand yellow in the morning sun. 

Late autumn, — 

Over the hill 

There floats, clear-toned, 

The winding of some huntsman's horn. 

Late autumn, — 
The quiet sadness 
Of a season that is almost passed 
Along the inevitable way of time 
Enwraps my heart with calm. 
[91] 



Autumnal Reverie 



Late autumn, — 

Like the season 

Counted are my days, — 

Golden days, with beauty complete; 

Poised, rich with sapient loveliness, 

Upon the verge of esoteric mystery. 

Late autumn, — 

Peace is mine. 

The peace of a gracious ending, — 

Why should I grieve for the summer that is fled? 



[92] 



WHEN THE LEAVES ARE GONE 



A 



BEAUTIFUL fresco of black 

Against the golden wrack 
Of the sunset sky. 



A swaying, waving, changing screen 
Against the golden sheen 
Of the dying day. 



[93] 



TO THE LAST ROBIN 

ROBIN, high-riding, 
Fir top bestriding, 
Why are you biding? 
Winter is hiding 
Over the mooning 
Solitude tuning. 
Soon will be crooning 
Wail of his playing. 
Robin, high-swaying, 
Why be delaying, — 
Death's in his singing? 
Southward go winging! 

Robin, lone-riding, 
Why are you biding? 



[94] 



WINTER'S BLIGHT 



THE autumn leaves take sudden flight 
From gold to brown, — 
Say, why does the winter always blight? 



[95] 



TRANSFORMATION 



ALL day it has rained: 
Great gouts of wind-swept storm 
Have beat incessantly upon my window-pane. 



II 



Sunset came, 

Held low above the hills, 

As an oriflamme of finest gold. 

Ill 

To-night, 

Descends on stilly wings 

Darkness and steely cold. 

Till all the world 

Is armored, cap-a-pie, in silver ice. 



[96] 



OF MANY SUNSETS 

/HAVE sung of many sunsets, 
I have sung of many dawns. 
Sung of twilights fraught with magic. 
Sung of evanescent morns. 

I am drunk with age-old dreaming 
At the wonder of it all; 
I am slave of tints unfathomed, 
I am color^s willing thrall. 

Like a smile of lips alluring. 

Like a firefly's visioned glow. 

Like a breath of far-blown perfume, — 

So the sunsets come and go. 

Like a star that falls to nothing. 
So the dawn goes swinging past: 
I would grasp each fleeting sun-tint, 
I would hold each color fast. 

Though the theme seem very ancient, 
Yet the song is ever new, — 
Would you have me mute my singing? 
Nay, I must to myself be true! 
[97] 



